


The Morning After (the night before)

by TheMuchTooMerryMaiden



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Song-related, The very fluffiest of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-28
Updated: 2011-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:39:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMuchTooMerryMaiden/pseuds/TheMuchTooMerryMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the morning after the night before...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After (the night before)

You haven’t really heard the song ‘Nobody Does it Better’ until you’ve heard it sung in a surprisingly rich and sonorous baritone and you know that the singer is referring to you, at least that’s what John Watson thought as he relaxed in bed listening to Sherlock flit around the kitchen.

“Makes me feel sad for the rest!” John entirely failed to keep the grin off his face as he stretched and winced slightly before deciding that his various aches and pains were definitely the good kind of hurt.

“Nobody does it half as good as you!” We should have done this months ago, John thought grinning to himself at the changes wrought in Sherlock, smothering the grin into a slightly diffident smile as Sherlock shoved the door open with his hip, his hands being full with mugs of tea.

“Baby, baby, darlin’ you’re the best!” he finished, putting both cups down and sitting on the edge of the bed before leaning over his shoulder for a ‘good morning’ kiss. Still maintaining the kiss Sherlock scooted round and pushed John down back on to the pillows. Their kisses became more and more fevered as the tea cooled slowly. Eventually John pulled back slightly and contemplated Sherlock.

“You know, this is not how I pictured this,” he said.

“You actually pictured ... this?” Sherlock questioned.

“Yes. Yes, I’m afraid to admit that I did.”

“Pretty sure I’ve ever prompted that kind of attention before,” Sherlock said and John could see that his friend (lover, he thought with a thrill low in his abdomen) was suddenly wrapped up in pondering this change in circumstances. Abruptly, Sherlock was up and pacing, hands clasped with index fingers just touching his (soft, passionate, mobile) lips. Giving himself a mental shake John realised, belatedly that this was Sherlock in full on ‘deduction mode’. It made him uneasy; this thing between the pair of them was a little new and delicate to be subjected to the sort of scrutiny that Sherlock gave things (like a game of chess – ‘I can see we will break up in twenty-three months, we might as well stop now’). John decided that perhaps some distraction was in order.

“You must have done. You, who sees and observes, must realise how gorgeous you are.” Sherlock looked round eyes wide with a rare surprise. Distraction successfully managed John thought and relaxed just a tiny amount.

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Sherlock repeated and John was inordinately pleased to see the blush that spread across his suddenly, what, shy? face.

“Oh, come here, love, and I’ll show you,” John replied gesturing to the bed and for once Sherlock did as he was told.

“One thing,” Sherlock said as he settled himself next to John, “are you going to call me ‘love’ in public? Because I think that would be brilliant!”


End file.
